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invisible walls and
pointless words

It’s a beautiful day and the birds are singing and the clouds are plodding across the blue sky with the speed of a summer breeze. My head is fuming and my heart racing with anger only by the things I read on a screen.

American culture is so shaped by the “one of two things” mentality that it’s hard to take part in any discourse these days; to even read up on it is suffocating. Social design has built a wall around acceptable perspective and drawn a line between two sides and all debate seems to happen within that context: You’re either with us, or against us.1

I dwell in this torture as it ruins the view. Creation is a purpose, but The West has taught me that there is a responsibility to the zeitgeist with that calling—yet as I Follow Back the cultural rhetoric, its banal platitudes only make me think These people are owed nothing. Society is providing an avalanche of evidence as to why it should be buried and left for dead.2

At the same time I know these people are struggling. Anxiety and despair are at all-time highs in Americans—specifically those in my age group, caught between Generation X and the Millennials. Yet it feels increasingly like despair is the only sense in which I can identify with anyone; it’s a damning feeling.

  • How soon we forget.
  • Most of this is stemming from the viral Harper’s Bazaar piece blaming men for women in unhappy relationships, and I basically read it as blanket statements and soundbyte-style writing that is particularly … Trump-like in its desire to garner the most reaction for saying as little as possible.

18:00 / 11 May 2019
Posted to Opinion


structural work

(I’ve taken a more focused study toward my work these days, in that my goal is to have a collection that will translate as a language beyond medium. this affects all of my communication; my basic definition of how I write, text, speak and converse are all an aspect of this, and so No Two Posts Are Alike, and recent artist statements1 are not as consistent. in many ways I feel like i am re-learning how to talk, but teaching myself at the same time.)

21:00 / 31 March 2019
Posted to Personal


the chest cavity

there’s a soft light flickering like a slow strobe on my table; the fan overhead interfering with the hanging fluorescent bulbs. three laptops are open, a woman with a foreign accent taps away on her phone and it’s all basketball on television. the traffic was atrocious and though it’s a Growing Concern, and more important in the public eye than either of the Wars have been in years, the general mechanics of day-to-day life will continue to force their way toward the will of quarterly profits. nothing will change for this or the clusters of tents under the bridges of the 405 outside Bellevue or the tax breaks for Amazon and Microsoft. we are subject to the will of a faceless system owned by vultures. everything in here is a polite shade of brown and i wonder if anyone else is using all of their willpower not to simply start screaming where they sit.

17:00 / 28 March 2019
Posted to Personal


Part 3, or, Another
New Notebook

I’ve been writing an extraordinary amount in journals of late. Things that perhaps I would used to have posted to this or other online outlets but now am reluctant to.

The relationship between a web site and an audience has always been a give and take. For some time, though, in the late 90s and early 2000s when Personal Web Pages were a thing, the exchange was in genuine curiosity. Authors curious about a medium, audiences fascinated by the new, abrupt form of intimacy one can have with another. This is the web that I grew up in, the one this site is a relic of; it is not the web of today.

Today, the give and take is vacuous. A web site takes user data and the user receives a stimulus in proportion to how much the content has changed since the last time they visited the site. Shopping is the end game across the web. There are no more humans on the internet, only robots now; giant machines with smiling faces, printing money.

…all that, it makes me reluctant to be as forthcoming. to write the way I did was as much an act between myself and the medium as it was about the subject matter. now I keep it personal, but mostly to myself, on paper. Not to be archived or even seen by another pair of eyes, at least in this form; it feels calming.

00:30 / 20 March 2019
Posted to Personal


What Are You Looking At?

scribe · 2019

(more new work i will get around to putting online. ingredients: black gesso on translucent drop cloth, rage. 36 inches square.)

08:30 / 21 February 2019
Posted to Work


Clear History

(even though this web site has operated with a blog—in some form or another—since 1999, it has undergone semi-annual design changes and annual database dumps throughout the years. thus, the "Archive" is actually only evidence of what has not yet been deleted.)